


now what

by riczi (waved)



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waved/pseuds/riczi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now what?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d live this long.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	now what

**Author's Note:**

> melchior stops moritz from killing himself i guess???? wow im Creative

“Now what?” Melchior asks, the silver of the gun slipping away into his pocket. And Moritz was so close. So close…

Even with Melchior, the stars are still gone.

“I don’t know.” Moritz offers, and he does _not_ like the way his voice wavers. It feels like static coming out of his mouth, crackling and cutting his tongue to shreds – no, he does not like this feeling. This feeling of being trapped, caught like a child doing something their mama said not to. This feels like a last straw. The last moment before everything comes toppling down into a pile of rubble, and Moritz isn’t even _dead_ yet.

“I didn’t think I’d still be alive. Not right now. I thought…”

Melchior grabs his wrist and pulls hard, knocking Moritz off his feet. He stumbles. He can’t catch himself. He collapses on his knees and Melchior looks like he’s on the verge of vomiting when Moritz looks up.

He lets go of his wrist.

And then Melchior lowers himself down so he’s on his knees too, dirt digging into his uncovered skin and he’s grappling at Moritz’s clothes for a hold, for _something_ , and Moritz lets him. Moritz lets him. There’s nothing he can do to make this situation less heavy. No joke about his attempted suicide could lighten this mood, _nothing_ – nothing can fix this. Melchior is breathing hard. Melchior is breathing and Moritz is breathing and they breathe together as Melchior still struggles with his shaking hands, pulling and pulling and pulling with no give.

He gives up.

Suddenly, Moritz finds himself with a ball of Melchior thrown into his lap.

“Moritz,” comes his trembling voice, muffled by the undersized winter coat Moritz threw on in his hurry. “Moritz, I need you to stay.”

Moritz snakes his hands underneath Melchior’s pliant arms so he can pull him into a more secure embrace, resting his head on Melchior’s shoulder as he sobs into his chest, and they just sit there. They sit together in a mess of limbs in the fucking dirt, the river flowing next to them and Moritz can see the moon just in the corner of his eye. It’s still so dark. It is still so, so dark.

Behind the body tucked into the safety of his own, he can see the faint twinkle of a star.

**Author's Note:**

> this is bad


End file.
